Standing still

Oh jez look at them.
Everyone spotless, rigid, composed.
Fake.

Who is this one next to me?
This squared jacket with necktie.

Who is this woman?
Serious like a nun.

I feel my black dress,
but it's not mine.

We could have been everywhere else,
on the opposite side of the world.
Naked and dirty,
discovering something not payable with money.

We are here,
combing this damn dog.

This thing,
he call her 'my baby'.
It's just a thing with four legs.

Who cares?
The parate, the parate.
Focussed on the parate.

I'm part of it.
He said: "At your place!"
and I'm standing still.

Move...